


Clementines and Revolution

by unwinding_fantasy



Category: Kingdom Hearts
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Dystopia, Axel has a robotic arm, Dystopia, M/M, destroying the system, rebel!Axel, soldier!Roxas
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-08-27
Updated: 2016-08-27
Packaged: 2018-08-11 08:57:04
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,994
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7884808
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/unwinding_fantasy/pseuds/unwinding_fantasy
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>In a world where your every movement is dictated by the timekeeper wrapped around your wrist, subverting the system isn't enough. You have to break it.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Clementines and Revolution

**Author's Note:**

> This was written for the tumblr community kh_worldsconnected, using "time" as the theme. My partner in creativity, [paopunova](http://paopunova.tumblr.com/), has created an amazing picture to accompany the story. Check it out [here](http://paopunova.tumblr.com/post/149661815093/my-half-of-the-kh-worldsconnected-collaboration).

Roxas checked his keeper. Twenty-three minutes until report and turn in, and the blonde couldn't be more relieved. Seven days' leave shone bright in his mind's eye so while forcing some other unfortunate to maintain order in the Western Quarter on this blustery August night wasn't something Roxas felt good about, better them than him. At least his temperature controlled body armour kept the chill at bay. The Organization for Defence and Liberty was austere in many ways but public protection wasn't one of them: their Peacekeepers were equipped with state-of-the-art anything from duel night vision/heat detection goggles to fifty thousand volt tasers to diamond-tough armour that was supposed to mould against the body like a second skin for easy mobility. Unfortunately it wasn't built for a guy Roxas' height so with each step, the leg guards jabbed him just above the ankles. He grimaced and turned down another street, wondering with morbid glee how impressive the twin bruises would look when he finally returned to the barracks and stripped down.

His partner heaved a sigh and scrubbed frost from his goggles. "Looks like it's getting worse. I can see crap all in this thing," Pence groused. Roxas hummed agreement, pausing before an alleyway where he thought he'd heard a noise. He hated the Western Quarter, not just because it was populated by downtrodden low born. It reminded him of…

"Don't suppose we can sneak back early?" Pence said. Roxas brushed the feeble joke aside and focused on the strange noise. Curfew had fallen hours ago; nobody should be skulking around.

Roxas held up a hand to hush his partner. Unclipped his sidearm. Thumbed on the torch attached to the top of the weapon, trained it towards the sound. He was peripherally aware of Pence fumbling for his own weapon. Not for the first time, he wondered how a guy with the physique of a well-fed bulldog had managed to pass the physical and get into the Peacekeepers. Still, better him as a partner than that blonde bitch Seifer, who would've loudly questioned Roxas' judgement, who'd pick on citizens for the stupidest reasons like wearing unpatriotic socks, who'd been a constant source of pain at the academy. Seifer, who'd gone missing two weeks past. To hear his partner tell it, they'd gotten into an argument that culminated in Seifer's partner stalking off to cool down, abandoning him in the city's roughest sector. The loudmouthed blonde hadn't been seen since.

Gooseflesh popped up on Roxas' arms. He shook his head to dispel the memory and slowly advanced. The alley stretched nightwards, a narrow tunnel of black peppered with flurries of white and the close confines made something twist in Roxas' stomach. Even the wind whistling down the narrow stretch sounded eerie, like somebody screaming from the bottom of a frozen over lake. _Don't be a pussy,_ he chastised himself. _This is what you trained for. Does Pence look worried? No, so grow a pair and keep walking._ The Western Quarter, a slum in all but name and suspected origin of most cybernetic rebels, was a rite of passage for new recruits. Damned if Roxas was going to flip out over his first unsupervised encounter with an unruly renegade. He raised his torch higher, scanning. Couple of trash cans, some Organization posters on brick walls.

"Clear," the blonde said as he holstered his blaster, annoyed at his overreaction. He glanced sideways. Pence was staring blankly. When he didn't move, Roxas rapped on the guy's chest plate. "C'mon, man, don't make me say it again."

"Roxas…" Pence indicated something behind the blonde.

Roxas' blood froze. He swallowed, turned. Beside him, Pence redirected his torch to illuminate a poster. A gasp stuck in Roxas' throat.

A streak of red, slashed across the Organization logo. Roxas' eyes honed in on the defaced image, teeth clenching at the abominable colour, which reminded him of a slit throat. _Fresh blood_ , he thought as he raised his keeper to his mouth, prepared to log the anomaly—

A snarling _thing_ leaped into his face.

Pence yelped. Roxas flailed. The thing was a blur, twisting away each time Roxas tried to push it away, clawing at the blonde like its survival depended on it, and within seconds, a burning sensation erupted along Roxas' left cheek. Fleetingly, he glimpsed Pence lifting his blaster. Roxas yelled for the other Peacekeeper to stand down.

Two notable things happened during this carnage. First, Pence toppled sideways and wound up sprawled on his ass. Second, Roxas finally chucked the creature away. It landed gracefully, back arched, hissing madly. In the same instant Roxas realised he'd been fighting a cat, he spied a burst of red hair disappearing around the alley's mouth. The hair's owner paused to lean around the corner like he was trying to determine the veracity of something very important. Roxas balked. All thought of logging this incident evaporated like snow in spring as piercing green eyes collided with Roxas' cold blue. A solitary word tumbled from his lips:

" _Axel?_ "

* * *

_The sky was a typical murky grey. Roxas concentrated on what strange shapes he could discern in the clouds. A pineapple. A corgi. A whale that appeared to be swallowing a smaller fish._ _**Whale babushkas** _ _, he thought. The unpatriotic word sprung into his mind but Roxas didn't have the willpower to berate himself, not when he was trying to ignore how his chest felt like it'd been doused in kerosene, a lit match chucked his way. Twitching his left leg just a fraction would probably induce terrible cramps so he did his best to stay perfectly still, quietly dying in the sloshy muck._

" _Hey."_

_Dread pooled in his belly. He braced himself for impact. Axel's face appeared above him, thin lips drawn in a funny half-sneer that looked less sincere today than it had in the entire two years they'd been suffering training academy. "Nice work, Peter Parker. Told ya it wouldn't work."_

_Roxas winced. He didn't expect anyone to understand but he tried explaining, if only to take his mind off how his heart was pounding so fast it was probably breaking the sound barrier. "Give me one good reason I should bother with obstacles I've cleared a thousand times over."_

_Axel sighed, exasperated. An uneven number of cadets in their platoon meant for today's session, Axel was the sole Westie on a team of East Elite. Of course Axel wouldn't actually want to help the Elites – his own kind would ostracise him – but he had to feign involvement enough to avoid being singled out by their drill instructor. Roxas risked tilting his head to inspect his temporary teammate. A large smear of mud covered half his face. His close-cropped hair looked more rusty than red: brown, used, like it had seen better days. Even though they hated each other, a twinge of guilt prickled Roxas' stomach. "Sorry," he found himself saying. "I should've listened to you."_

" _Yeah, well," Axel sniffed, drew the back of his hand beneath his nose. "Just 'cos I'm a Westie doesn't mean I'm a moron." He cut his gaze skyward, expression easing towards pensive. "How're you not dead yet?" The soft words were almost lost to barked commands and yells of affirmative from the obstacle course's other stations._

_Carefully, Roxas wriggled into a sitting position. The wall loomed above, huge, indomitable. A frown overwhelmed his embarrassingly cherubic features. The handholds were made for taller cadets, deliberately spaced far apart, making it the only obstacle Roxas hadn't yet mastered even though he'd spent every spare second practicing on the indoor climbing walls. Like that had done any good._

_Roxas' gaze flicked over the Westie's gangly form._ _**Axel could've done it easily.**_ _Shame flooded the blonde's face._ _ **It's my fault our team lost**_. _That meant extra circuits and mess hall duty for the rest of the month. He'd have to sync his keeper with the station in the kitchens to make sure he didn't forget about meal prep._

_Axel's smirk brightened his dirty face. "Don't sweat it, shortstack. It's not like you'd actually get kicked out. Daddy's donations'll see to that." He dragged the blonde up, who swatted away the help. The sweet aroma of citrus flooded Roxas' senses. Rather than questioning it, Roxas was too incensed to think beyond how much he hated the redhead, not to mention himself._

" _That's a load of—" Roxas' snarled retort was cut off by a steel-capped boot to the solar plexus. He gasped and blinked back tears pricking his eyes to glare at the redhead. The effect was lost though: Axel was turned away, crouched defensively._

" _You little shit! Because of you I'm stuck serving fucking_ _ **Westies**_ _!" Definitely not Axel._

_Roxas' keeper sent a small jolt of electricity up his arm to signify he should have completed the course already. Another blemish on his record, another permanent mark against his timekeeping abilities. He clenched his teeth to stop the frustration from boiling over._

" _We're heaps easier to please than you_ _ **Elites**_ _," Axel twisted the word until it became ironic, a personal in-joke._

_Looming above stood Seifer Almasy, son of some high-ranking Organization member, venomous eyes glinting. A powerful person by virtue of his family name. Only an idiot would challenge him. "You wanna go, shit stain? Huh? I could take you in my sleep!"_

_And where any other person would be cowed, where any sane person would shut up and swallow whatever retribution this Elite of the highest echelons decided to mete out, Axel_ _**laughed** _ _. Worse, he said, "Makes perfect sense 'cos the only place you'll be taking me is in your dreams."_

_All colour drained from Seifer's face except two dark spots suffusing his cheeks. He yanked Axel forward by the neck of his fatigues, voice deathly serious when he hissed, "Say that again. I dare you."_

_Axel smirked. "Oh? You'd rather me do the taking? Can do, cupcake."_

_With a wordless roar, Seifer punched Axel clean on the nose. Blood gushed everywhere. Seifer shoved the redhead, who fell back with a dull thud. Seifer was shaking his hand out when his mutterings about dirty blood were abruptly severed by Roxas bowling into him. They tumbled to the ground, a whirlwind of fists and curses punctuated by the coppery tang of blood, Roxas' heart thundering righteously. A moment later, strong hands were prising them apart, their instructor peering down, reprimanding the trio before assigning extra duties._

_And that was how Roxas, third son of the Organization's most promising Mainframe maintainer, and wrong-side-of-the-tracks Axel became inseparable._

* * *

That moment is what raced through Roxas' mind as he pursued his friend. Their footsteps, cushioned by fresh snow, lent an oddly muted edge to the chase, Roxas' heart thumping as he tailed Axel's zigzagged escape route. The redhead had the home quarter advantage, knew every crevice and laneway, the secret language of the unmapped. He veered into a gap between two buildings, more breathing space than actual street, and leaped the chain-link fence at the end. Roxas followed, feet crunching in the snow as he dropped on the other side. An overpass spanned thirty feet across train tracks running below and Axel was standing on the ledge, perfectly still but for his heaving chest. The clacking wheels grew louder. Axel's knees bent. Roxas darted forwards, Axel's name smothered by the train's blaring as the blonde leaped a split second before Axel.

They collided in midair. The world became a flurry of metal and warmth and snow; they landed heavily, air rushing from Roxas' lungs, and tumbled over and over. When they finally stopped, Axel was standing over him, fury writ in every line. He grabbed Roxas and shook until the blonde's teeth rattled. "The hell?" Axel's hands smelled like oil in need of changing; it was the left arm, the one that should've had a keeper interwoven with tendons and skin. Roxas gulped against the wad of emotion stuck in his throat. _This can't be real. This can't… What have you done, Axel?_

But he knew; it was painfully obvious. From the elbow down, Axel's arm was metal.

Axel was a cyborg.

Roxas' stomach roiled like he'd discovered month old meat at the back of his fridge. "That's it? Pretty lousy way to greet your best friend after being dead an entire year."

Axel sat back, gave an embarrassed cough as he scrubbed his metallic hand through hair that tumbled down his back. _He grew it out_. It suited him better than a military buzzcut, imparted a wild edge to match his firebrand personality, and how the hell was Axel _alive?_ Roxas' voice sounded far away when he said, "KIA. They told me. You were killed in the riots." _I missed you, Axel. I needed you._

Axel turned to watch the slums crawl by. It struck Roxas how surreal this was, meeting a dead man in the middle of the night and conversing on top of a train. "There were no riots, Rox. Sure, the Organization heard murmurings - they'd just decreased food rations, after all - but nothing to warrant what happened. Nothing to justify violence." His body trembled, stirred by a tiny current tracing along his synapses. "It was supposed to be a test," Axel sneered the word, "for me and the other Westie cadets. Simple choice: cull your own kind and move on up or..." He made a vague gesture. "Nobody complained, Peacekeepers or civilians. Guess they told themselves less Westies equalled less mouths to feed equalled more rations for them."

Roxas recalled a training exercise where they'd stripped the platoon's weakest performers and left them crouched overnight in a cold running shower. Invisible fingers licked up his sides, making him shiver. "So what, you did some bad shit, ran and… tried to make amends?"

Axel barked a bitter laugh. "Like that's possible. Been playing revolutionary instead. I'm a madman, can't you tell?" He tapped his temple.

Roxas frowned. "There's no _playing_. This isn't a game, Axel."

It might've been his imagination but Roxas thought he saw Axel sway, just a little, when his name passed Roxas' mouth. "I know," Axel said quietly, the weight of continents in his words. "It never was."

Axel's eyes blazing into him slingshotted Roxas back to the academy, back to desperate whispers, the fevered brush of chapped lips over his collarbone, the way a concrete wall against his back contrasted with the warm body pressed along his front, the burn of flesh on flesh. They would've been executed if anyone discovered them. Homosexuals, foreigners, religious moderates, all despised by the Organization. Roxas had been scared but Axel was fearless. "I was meant to acquire you," Axel said. "Well, not that I knew it'd be you. They sent me after someone who could get into the Mainframe, preferably with leave coming up so they wouldn't be missed. We tried it with that Almasy guy but his vanishing act was noticed pretty fast. Intel said a suitable candidate was on patrol tonight." He shrugged.

 _So that thing at the power plant…_ Roxas recalled the rancid stench of sweat in the common room when everyone's keepers beeped for them to tune into the 6PM news. A thwarted terrorist attack, the newsreader said. That was barely a fortnight ago. His father had been working on some emergency backup power for the forcefield surrounding the Mainframe ever since. Roxas' eyebrows furrowed. "But instead of abducting me, you threw a cat in my face and ran away."

A lopsided smile worked onto Axel's face. Roxas' breath hitched. "Something like that," Axel said, voice curling warmly around the syllables.

Roxas was silent for a long moment. Eventually, he asked, "What's the plan?"

"Some of us crack into Powercorp and disrupt security. The rest head for the Central Processing Unit to destroy the Mainframe."

"That's…"

"Crazy, yeah."

"I was gonna say smart." With the Mainframe down, everybody's keepers would stop functioning. No little device dictating when to wake, to eat, to shower. No electronic tyrant saying flick on your television, 6PM sharp, and absorb Organization propaganda. If Axel did it right, who knew what would come of everyone's newfound freedom.

Axel's voice sliced into his reverie. "You followed me. Why?"

He'd always been a big fan of why. Why can Elites eat whatever they want? Why are Westies only permitted certain careers? Why "universal healthcare" if half the population doesn't qualify? Roxas had tried to explain that Westies had the same opportunities as Elites, that they just needed to work a little harder, but over time he'd stopped believing his own words. His declarations took on a desperate edge, delivered more to stop Axel from doing something reckless than out of any true conviction. Axel asked why but he'd always done it quietly, questions muffled by Roxas' mouth and the dark. Now...

Roxas gave the only answer he could. "I just wanted to see you again."

Axel placed his hands on Roxas' shoulders. His eyes were imploring, a promise of spring in the dead of winter. "Come with me." The fingers of his real hand brushed Roxas' cheek, a soft caress that made Roxas' breath catch. Beneath the metallic smell that clung to Axel's skin was the hint of something else, something organic and bittersweet. _Clementines_ , Roxas thought. Part of him wanted to rail against his best friend but the greater part felt like collapsing, the crumbling foundations of his entire life finally giving way.

His keeper beeped. Roxas jerked, shot through with an electric pulse for not reporting on time. "Might as well poke you with a cattle prod," Axel muttered as the train rolled to a halt at a railyard.

Roxas didn't know what to do. He should tase the redhead, cuff him and drag him before his superiors. He should arrest him. Condemn his best friend. He could do it, couldn't he? _Wouldn't be the first time I've executed orders I haven't agreed with._

"Not convinced, huh." Axel tapped his chin thoughtfully then said, "Tell me, is your dad still working for the Mainframe?"

"Yeah. He's one of the head maintainers now. Ranks in the hundreds."

Axel whistled appreciatively. "He'll have authorization for sure. Use his computer, check out your datafiles. Tell me what you think." The last was tossed over his shoulder as he clambered off the train.

Roxas stood, ignoring how his armour dug into his shins. His mind was a mess of regulations and atrocities and Axel's smile. What would the redhead do if Roxas said no? He shuddered, thinking of Seifer. But Axel, fearless Axel, had proved he'd rather run away than hurt Roxas. "I'll see," Roxas said. It was the best he could manage against the eardrum-shattering confusion.

Disappointment flickered in Axel's eyes. He chewed the inside of his cheek before saying, "You're meant to report, right? They'll get suspicious if you don't have a good reason for being late."

Blinding pain ripped into Roxas' arm.

Axel tugged out the vibro knife with surgical precision. "Sorry," he said over Roxas' curse-punctured fumblings for his medkit and before Roxas had the presence of mind to protest, his best friend was leaving. Axel looked good swathed in darkness, harsh lines softened, blurred around the edges. A wry smile tugged on Roxas' lips as he applied sealant to the wound. Only Axel could cut you up and make you feel like he was doing you a favour.

* * *

Roxas turned restlessly, a tiny boat in a hungry ocean. He wanted to sleep, exhausted from the grilling he'd received after finally submitting his report, but whenever he closed his eyes, Axel was there. Axel, belting _Go West_ , even though the song was an abomination of homosexual scum. Axel, eyes bright with a feral glow in the aftershocks of a thrown grenade. Axel, sneaking Roxas half his rations after Roxas had cost his team another victory and was supposed to go hungry for a few days. Axel, slicing a perfect half of a clementine stolen from the plantation near his home. His hands always smelled of citrus, a bitter-sweet combination that made Roxas salivate. The cool climate made it hard to grow anything so Westies weren't meant to have fresh fruit but it never stopped the redhead.

Roxas threw back the covers and padded into the living quarters. He knew precisely which drawer housed his father's laptop, just like he knew the password was a stupid portmanteau of his and his brothers' names. Since the failed hit on Powercorp his father was frequently up late so a login now wouldn't be marked as suspicious. Accessing the Organization's database and bringing up his files was a cinch. And there it was. A tiny footnote beneath his blood type and known allergies, three words to bring his world crashing down: height discrepancy overwrite.

His stomach lurched.

"Roxas?"

He froze. His dad's hand fell on his shoulder. Too late, Roxas tried to minimise the screen. "Ah. That." His father glanced at Roxas, whose shocked expression told all. His voice became coaxing. "Everyone does it. The Almasy boy was flagged for problems with authority. Your friend Pence was too heavyset. Their families donated enough for those flaws to be overlooked. Spend enough and you might even get out of this." He lifted his arm, indicating the inbuilt keeper.

"Is that it? Pay your way?" Roxas should've felt furious. Instead, defeat twisted his innards, stomach swooping, nosediving. This was what it felt like to have your world inverted, to acquire confirmation of a long held suspicion too dreadful to contemplate too long.

His dad grabbed his shoulders. "Listen, Roxas. I'm telling you how it is because you have to accept it. If you don't, the Organization will crush you. Tell me you understand."

Roxas looked away. "I understand," he mumbled.

"Roxas." The harsh edge in his father's tone made the blonde lift his head and for the first time he noticed turmoil in the older man's eyes, panic roiling just beneath the surface.

"I understand," he said.

* * *

_Wordlessly, methodically, Axel went about skinning the clementine with his pocket knife then carefully bisected the fruit and parcelled precisely half over to Roxas. The blonde murmured thanks before taking a large bite. Famished glint in his eyes, Axel watched him devour it, Roxas' cheeks burning, hyperaware of how the flesh made his tongue tingle, sweetness co-mingling with tartness. Juice trickled down his chin, obscene. Roxas wiped away the sticky liquid._

" _ **Media naranja**_ _," Axel said. He did this frequently, spouting random phrases in foreign languages for the simple thrill of committing word crimes. Quieter, he added, "Or close enough."_

_Roxas tilted his head. "Huh?"_

_Axel just smiled._

* * *

For four days, Roxas languished in his family's apartment while his flesh knitted back together, accelerated by the sealant. His keeper, synchronised for off duty, barely made a peep, Roxas frozen in a strange stupor like he couldn't decide what to do or like he was waiting for directions. His father explained his project had finally reached testing phase, that they'd be trialling the backup power supply for the forcefield protecting the Mainframe within the next few days. Roxas pretended to care.

On the fifth day, the 6PM news declared terrorists had been apprehended by an elite Peacekeeper task force. Roxas went to bed early, cried until late and tried hard not to think.

On the sixth day, he found a message from "Clementine" in his junk mail. He agonised over the contents for a split second but really, his mind was made up.

On the seventh, he met Axel at the base of the CPU.

He didn't say how he'd survived but his hunted look spoke volumes. Overwhelmed, Roxas smothered his questions and agreed to help. Without the manpower for the original plan, Roxas suggested a sting during the backup power trial run. If all went smoothly, his connection with his father would let them slip into the CPU and deal a deathblow to keepers across the country.

The guard's response was less than stellar. "We're in lockdown."

Roxas made a point of inspecting the guard's photo ID. "Okay, Hayner, I'll let Number 204 know his laptop isn't available. I'm sure those critical updates for the Mainframe's BIOS can wait. If our keepers start malfunctioning and none of us come in for work tomorrow, who gives a shit, right?" When the guard still looked unsure, Roxas fished a wad of cash from his pocket and nestled it into his hands, manually curling the guy's fingers around it. "Number 204 will be very grateful for your cooperation."

"Fine, fine, just… don't take long, okay?"

The glass doors slid open. As soon as they slipped inside and rounded a corner, Axel spoke from the corner of his mouth. "Who knew you could just lie your way in." His gaze flitted to each security camera in the vicinity with alarming alacrity.

"Money talks," Roxas replied, tuning out the flashing red lights mounted on the walls signifying lockdown. Multiple visits to his father made visualising the fastest route to the Mainframe simple. Footsteps clattered from the staircase on their left and Roxas dragged Axel into a recess in the corridor, sweating bullets as Peacekeepers raced past.

"So the forcefield works because it connects with keepers. The Organization are too narrow-minded to consider—"

"—somebody mightn't have one," Axel finished, flexing his cybernetic arm.

Roxas peeked down the corridor. Clear. At a brisk pace, he pulled Axel along, his metal hand cool in Roxas' grip as they passed through a number of doors that yielded to a swipe from the blonde's keeper. "The Organization aren't totally stupid though. The moment a foreign object pierces that energy barrier, this whole place'll go up."

Roxas' arm was nearly yanked from its socket, the redhead having abruptly halted just outside their destination. "What? It's only if we can't disable the backup power. Scared of dying for your cause?" Roxas scoffed.

Axel's face twisted. "Course not. But…" _I won't risk you,_ his anarchy eyes seemed to say. "You should go. I'll take it from here."

"No."

"Roxas…"

"Give me one good reason."

"Roxas."

"One!"

"Because I love you, you little brat!"

An electric pulse that wasn't generated by his keeper vibrated through Roxas' entire body, amps along his arteries, volts in his veins. At that same instant the alarm triggered, a group of guards bursting around the corner, demanding they identify themselves. Axel responded by whipping out his blaster. Shots flew through the air, ricocheting off steel walls. Frantic, Roxas swiped into the Mainframe, tugged the redhead through before shooting the scanner to knock out the door. That would buy them some time.

"Woah," Axel muttered, gaze lifting up and up. Roxas didn't blame him. The Mainframe spanned at least three storeys, a gigantic room covered wall-to-wall in computers surrounded by a dull pink aura. _The barrier._

The redhead brought up a schematic on his datapad. A moment's study then he pointed to a segment directly across from them. "That's it. The heart of the Mainframe."

Roxas pointed up a level. Clinging to the side of a pillar was the small box his father had indicated last time Roxas had visited. He'd been so proud of his latest project, hopeful it would gain him a promotion. "And the backup power. You stay here. If I can't disable it, you'll have to blow the joint."

Axel craned his neck. "It's a long way. Think you can climb it?"

"I have to."

Axel nodded, determination etched on his face. Roxas climbed over the guard rails. Glanced down. The Mainframe spiralled below, a blackness pinpricked with computer lights. He held his breath then leaped.

For one terrifying moment, Roxas' hands scrabbled for purchase, feet slipping on the cold metal. Miraculously, he found a handhold. _You can do this. You've practically done this before._ He gulped down his fear. _Just do it. Fucking DO IT._

And he climbed.

To mask the fear, Roxas concentrated on how annoying Axel was for puncturing him with a knife, on the dull ache of flesh not fully healed. His keeper beeped angrily, aware he'd entered a restricted area, and sent shockwaves through his body. Roxas gritted his teeth but kept on. Halfway up, the door burst open, shots filling the room. Roxas prayed the guards would overlook him, two levels higher but conspicuous in the void of the Mainframe's center, that Axel would be okay. His heartbeat rushed in his ears, time ebbing whenever he wiped his palms dripping oceans.

Blaster fire exploded by his shoulder. Roxas slipped. Barely caught himself. _Just a couple more spans._ The pain from his keeper almost had him paralysed now. Groaning, he hauled himself to the backup power source. It was an imperfect machine, a mere prototype. He fumbled for the vibro knife Axel had loaned him, energy bullets raining down. Deep breath. His last thought before he plunged in the blade was, _Sorry, Dad, here goes your promotion._

The source fizzled; the barrier dissipated. "Axel! Now!"

Fending off a dozen Peacekeepers, Axel whirled on the Mainframe's heart, took aim and fired. Shot after shot after shot ripped into circuitry, sockets, chipsets, all before the Organization could reconnect to Powercorp.

Roxas' keeper died. The pain vanished so abruptly he almost lost his grip. Instead, he sobbed with relief.

Blasters clattered to the ground, stunned Peacekeepers fleeing or curling up on the floor or staring with wonderment. As it became apparent they weren't combat ready, Axel lowered his weapon, slow smile lighting his face. The blonde buzzed with elation. _We did it! I can't believe we fucking did it!_

Axel flashed him a thumbs up. "Nice work, Spidey."

* * *

Much later, they sat on top of the abandoned CPU building, shoulders touching as they shared a clementine and watched the sun ascend. The sky was a revelation, rust to red to liquid gold. The blonde's better half hummed a song for beginnings. Roxas smiled, feeling the sunrise in his blood, the new world ushered in by Axel's laughter in his mouth.


End file.
